


Love to Spare

by GamblingDementor



Category: The Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 15:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamblingDementor/pseuds/GamblingDementor
Summary: On the other side of the room, lost in a world entirely of their own affections, Frexspar is entertaining Nessarose. She is, for certain, Frexspar's most beloved child. In the opposite farthest corner, Elphaba is sitting on her own and minding her own business − or is no one minding hers?Slice of life piece on the Thropp household when Nessarose was still very little.





	Love to Spare

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Wicked fanfiction set in the bookverse! I tried to keep it canon compliant to the book as much as I could and I really really love Melena Thropp.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to summers in this Lurline-forsaken place."

 

Nanny has been at her grumbling for quite some time now, maybe even months if you take into account the whole time since she moved to Quadling Country after the birth of Nessarose, a time she definitely spent complaining in some way. Melena has been ignoring her jeremiads for just about as long, the whining of an old lady who, when she can't find any way to make her presence noted through her devoted attitude and good works, finds the attention she craves in making herself as loud as she can. Turtle Heart was the one soul who could ever oblige her, Melena thinks with melancholy, grief and remorse. Now, however, now Nanny is left alone to her ranting about everything wrong in their old Oz. From the impostor of a Wizard who dared rob the crown from the rightful Ozma Tippetarius to the ugliness of every Quadling she ever gazed upon and how unrighteous the lot of them, and how unfortunate that not only Melena was not able to produce Frex a son like she wished, but also that the live children she provided were plagued with difformities (though she insists she loves the both of them all the same, the two little creeps), and of course, the biggest culprit of all, Quadling Country, the rancid uncivilized wasteland Frexspar has dragged them to − at gunpoint, to believe the crone −, every aspect of her life seems a matter of sighs and wails.

 

"Did you hear me? I swear to you, Melena, if it weren't for the love I bear you and your daughters, Nanny would be packing her things right back to Nest Hardings. I know the drought was hard, but a least… Melena! Will you listen to me now?"

 

Melena startles out of her thoughts and shakes her head to find her bearings again − which Nanny takes for an offense and whips a few more furious stitches in the sleeveless bodice she's been crocheting. Of course, Melena was hearing her, though calling it listening would be naming a cat a Cat. In the small shanty that is now Melena's whole world, even smaller and more desolate than Rush Margins − and who would have believed that this was possible? − it would take her being deaf to not hear Nanny, as much as she tries. She takes a sip from her glass − not liquor, for one can hardly find any strong beverage in Quadling Country, but Melena dulls the numbness of the daily life with Quadling wine. And dulls the other things, too.

 

"But before I shut it, would you…" Nanny stops in her tracks and follows Melena's gaze before Melena manages to avert it to prevent any fuss. "Oh."

 

On the other side of the room, lost in a world entirely of their own affections, Frexspar is entertaining Nessarose. At almost two years old, she cannot walk and Melena could not say if she ever will. She cannot hold toys to play with or gnaw on, like Elphie was always prone to do at her age. Of course, Elphaba could be the arms Nessarose lacks and Melena is certain they could make a game of it like sisters always do, creating their own silly childish games − Elphaba had no shortings of imagination when it came to bullying her little play mates in Munchkinland − but Frexspar won't have it.

 

No, Frex prides himself in providing Nessa with the sole education she needs, raising her the perfect Unionist before she can even understand the words her father floods her with. When he is not out and about spreading the word of the Unnamed God to the masses of indifferent Quadlings, he is here at home preaching all the same to their child, for it is the only thing that seems to make Nessarose content. Just like Elphaba, the girl is stern and lacking any gaiety, but when she watches Frexspar's animated face, her coos sing the prettiest song, as she is only now starting to talk and not much. Melena supposes that it is still earlier than Elphaba, who even now at almost five weighs every word carefully. At least, the way Nessarose's eyes focus on Frex and she follows his every word, they know that even if the child cannot touch, she can hear. She's only a cripple after all.

 

What she is, for certain, is Frexspar's most beloved child. For a while, and in fact ever since she gave birth to little Nessarose, Melena has observed how estranged Elphaba has become from her father, if she was ever any close to him in the first place. Oh, he still kisses the girl on the head when he comes home and often drags her around with him to show the Quadlings how forgiving, how almighty and benevolent the Unnamed God must be to find love for the little lizard that is Elphie, but his most tender smiles have been for Nessarose of late, his found trinkets, his precious family time. Elphaba was never an affectionate child or Melena a caring mother, but she cannot deny that the decline in Frexspar's attention to his elder daughter has been steep and that it does, in a way, cause Melena sorrow to observe it.

 

In the opposite farthest corner of their little shack, Elphaba is sitting on her own and minding her own business − or is no one minding hers? She was a quiet toddler who grew into a quiet child, keeping her own counsel as much as she can. Melena thinks that maybe the girl lacks in spirit but she has learned not to voice her suspicions in Nanny's presence, who chides her for thinking ill of her own brood. In any case, Elphaba sits with her toys, the little that's left of them in their rushed move to Quadling Country, some funny rocks, a feather, a book of illustrations, and pretends she's not longingly looking at the way Frexspar holds Nessarose on his lap, brushing her thin hair and telling her stories of Oz as it was always meant to be by divine design.

 

"Poor Fabala…" Nanny sighs, her woes against Quadling climate forgotten for the time present. "It is a shame he does not love her more."

 

Melena lets out an indignant huff but Nanny waves her hand, cautiously making her way to the kitchen table where Melena is spitefully, longingly cutting roots and herbs, the few that will grow in this barren land.

 

"You know Nanny is right," Nanny says. "And I mentioned to you that you ought to do something about it, but you never listen to Nanny."

 

"I listen to you plenty," Melena retorts. "It's just that you never want to comprehend that I can't do anything to make him favor Elphaba. He just loves the baby more and I can do nothing to change his mind."

 

Nanny takes the knife away from Melena, who was waving it around, and starts cutting the herbs in her stead. She's not so old that she can't handle a simple recipe − and heaven knows they haven't had anything above the simplest of the simple since moving here − but her hands aren't quite as deft as they were and her chunks are much bigger than the cuts Melena made.

 

"Not him," Nanny says as if every word out of her mouth was common knowledge. "I mean that the girl could make do without her father's full attention if she had no lack of motherly affection."

 

Melena frowns. It's no secret that her supposed mother's instincts have not awakened in her yet and she doubts they ever will, as much as Frexspar encourages every kind gesture, every smile towards the girls. Back when Turtle Heart was with them… But he made every person under the roof a happier, better person than who they ended up becoming again. And he departed from them for the remains of their days. Sometimes, Melena wishes she shared her husband's faithfulness so she could hope that in the afterlife, she and Frex would share Turtle Heart again, the three of them one flesh as it feels they were always meant to be. She looks at Nessa and imagines a red-ish undertone behind her pale skin and finds herself hoping and longing for what's gone.

 

"Oh, you foolish child," Nanny says with a bit of mood, "If you refuse to do it, I'll have to do it myself. Elphie, come here, my little grasshopper! Nanny needs you."

 

Elphaba's head turns to them sharply. Dutifully, she puts down her toys, pats her dress flat and joins them at the kitchen table − she's growing tall and taller every day and there is no need for the baby chair anymore. Nessarose makes use of it anyways, and what Nessa needs, Elphaba needs to make way of.

 

"I was wondering if you could help us with dinner," Nanny says and gives Elphaba a kind smile that, in the deepest of her memories, Melena remembers as heartwarming and comforting from when she was a child under Nanny's care herself. If she ever stopped being that. In any case, Elphaba doesn't smile back, but nods and holds out her hands for Nanny to show her how to toss the roots into the bowl as she finishes to cut them and then smash them into something edible. "Yes, that's it, little green, look what a big helper you are!"

 

Nanny looks at Melena pointedly, silently nodding towards Elphaba who is focusing on her task, her little lips pressed together into a thin line as she tries to imitate exactly what Nanny showed her. Her gestures are careful and deliberate, if slow.

 

"That's… very good…" Melena says at Nanny's insistent look, but Nanny doesn't seem satisfied. She feels obliged to add, "Darling…"

 

Nanny shakes her head as if she couldn't believe Melena was so inept. Melena takes a swig of her glass. The wine doesn't even taste like much, not in this swamp. She doesn't even know what they make it from. Maybe blood and algae like the rumors say. She would drink it all the same.

 

"That's going to make a nice dinner for all of us," Nanny says to Elphaba. "Isn't it, Melena?"

 

Melena nods, boning the white smelly fish that seem to be all the flesh you can hope for in these parts of Oz.

 

"Do you like cooking, Elphaba?" Elphaba shrugs her tiny pointy shoulders. "What _do you_ like? Tell Nanny."

 

Elphaba looks at Nanny, her dark eyes wide with bewilderment. She is not used to being asked anything, much less about herself.

 

"Turtles," she replies. "Animals."

 

"Oh, didn't you have a pet turtle as a child, Melena? Or was it your sister…"

 

"It was Sopheila," Melena replies, who could never abide animals.

 

Nanny _tssk_ s and Melena feels like she's failed another test. Elphaba looks at her. Even with her unnatural skin, her eyes remain full of humanity and Melena always feels like they're judging her. They can. She's judging herself as well.

 

"Do you wish we had a pet turtle, Elphie?" She forces the words out and sees Nanny nodding in the corner of her eye.

 

Elphaba squints, as if she was scared of a trap behind the offer. It's all pointless. Melena wants to sigh and go lose herself in some Quadling sinkhole but not now, not with Frex at home, not with Nanny's eyes on her, not when maybe, she could have a chat with her daughter that doesn't feel like horrors. Finally, the little green girl decides that there is no danger in the question and she nods, getting back to her task of cooking.

 

In the most inappropriate way, it's moments like these, when Melena shares a hint of kindness with her daughter, that make her question her life the most. Where would she be if she had not loved Frexspar? How preferable would the life in the house of the Eminent Thropp be to this pitiful semblance of a family life down here in this horrid land? Did she make the best use of the freedom she chose to take by leaving the family home? She nods and even smiles at Elphaba and they have what looks like a conversation from the outside, Nanny encouraging both of them to ask questions and show interest in the other − an interest that they both innerly know is not present.

 

"Frex," she calls out when finally all is done, "Come and eat with us, the two of you."

 

Melena looks down at her plate of gray mush and everyone knows there is nothing less appetizing, but there is also nothing else and they won't let themselves starve to death either.

 

"Oh, Melena, you should have seen it!" Frex says excitedly. "Nessie made the funniest sound and I swear, she looked just like…" He grows quiet and sits down, putting Nessarose down in her baby chair next to Nanny for her feeding. "Did you amuse yourselves over here? I heard conversation."

 

He smiles at Elphaba who stares back and after a few long seconds, manages to fake a smile and shrugs half heartedly. He messes up her hair and pronounces the prayers on their meal, blessing the Unnamed God for bringing it onto their table even in such a miserable place. Melena thinks the Unnamed God had much less to do with it than her and Nanny and Elphie, but she doesn't say anything. In fact, no one does. She glances between Elphaba, picking at her food with her sharp fingers, making breathing and hissing sounds to herself, Nanny trying to feed a squirming Nessarose as best as she can, and Frexspar lost in his thoughts, and takes another swig of wine.

 

"What a pleasure to have dinner together as a family!" Nanny says eventually and they all look down into their plate.

 


End file.
